


f*ck sweets

by winryrockbae



Series: FelixWeek2020 [2]
Category: Fire Emblem: Fuukasetsugetsu | Fire Emblem: Three Houses
Genre: Gen, felixweek2020
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-03-11
Updated: 2020-03-11
Packaged: 2021-02-23 05:33:22
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,262
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23106424
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/winryrockbae/pseuds/winryrockbae
Summary: A collection of prompts put together for Felix's birthday week, I'm begging you to validate me.Day Two: Sweet/Sour/SpicyIf one more person offered him a piece of cake, he was going to lose his shit.
Series: FelixWeek2020 [2]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1660825
Kudos: 6
Collections: Felix Birthday Week 2020





	f*ck sweets

“I don’t eat sweets.”

Felix felt as though his tongue would fall out of his mouth if he had to repeat those four words one more time. No one seemed to understand that he didn’t enjoy the sickly sweet taste of anything sugary. Despite his firm and consistent rejection, sweets were continuously offered to him as if he would magically change his mind.

He didn’t like anything sweet. No chocolates or cakes, pastries or sugared berries. Even plain berries could be too much if they were too ripe. He had eaten a blackberry once and instead of the tangy taste of fruit the ripe sweetness of it had sent a shiver through his entire body and he resisted the urge to hack it up like a cat would a hairball.

So he was firm, even when his classmates appeared with cakes made specifically for him. He turned them down, scoffing when he told them they wasted their time. He didn’t like sweet things. Except for her. She was sweet, and he didn’t know how else to describe her. Funny, hard-working, genuine… sweet.

He’d harbored some affection for her since the day he heard her singing, off-key and about some nonsense rumblies in her tummy. She’d thought he was teasing her, which was fair. It’s not like he’d had any kind words to say to her before that moment. And she was new. She didn’t remember him as a soft crybaby or know him as Glenn’s younger brother. To her, he was Felix Hugo Fraldarius, a swordsman who didn’t eat cake. She never even offered it to him.

He found himself drawn to her company. Neither seemed to expect anything from the other apart from their presence. Felix would work reluctantly on the assignments the professor provided for them, while Annette’s rapid scribbling on her own parchment became a comfort.

“Careful Annette, you don’t want Felix's grumpiness to rub off on you.” Sylvain teased one evening, catching the two of them sitting in the classroom together, discussing the day’s lesson.

“Felix isn’t grumpy.” Annette came to his defense before Felix even had time to snap at his childhood friend.

“No?” Sylvain raised an eyebrow. “He’s pretty mean to me.”

“Because you deserve it. She doesn’t slack off on her training like you do.” Felix was already retreating, his sour mood returning as he gathered up his books and shoved them carelessly into his bag. His features were set a scowl as he left the two redheads in the classroom, their voices fading behind him.

“Sylvain, you really shouldn’t provoke him like that.”

“I don’t do it on purpose, he’s just like that.”

He’s just like that. It means he’s sour. He remembered something his father said to him once, after having watched him with his childhood friends. It was months after Glenn died, and Rodrigue was clearly concerned about his youngest son. “Felix, you look like you sucked on a lemon.”

Maybe it was meant to make him laugh or to change his expression to something more friendly. But in the moment, the surge of pettiness that had overtaken him caused him to scrunch his nose as the lines in his scowl deepened. And since then, that had become his default expression. Always frowning, always angry.

It was exhausting. But he couldn’t stop himself. Especially when Dimitri was around. The Prince seemed so kind and innocent, and he used to be. When they were children he would laugh and hold Felix’s hand as they played in the snow, afterwards the two of them would sit and drink warm milk together while Glenn read them a story or Sylvain would bring some building blocks for them all to play with in front of the fire.

Things changed after the Tragedy, in more ways than one. The smiles and the laughs that they shared as children were replaced with disgust and fear every single time Felix locked eyes with Dimitri. He had seen a side of him that no one else would ever dream to imagine, a bloodthirsty monster as he tore through enemy soldier after enemy soldier.

“Felix, we’re taking a break to get lunch. Would you like to join us?” Dimitri kept trying, day after day that same smile and facade would look Felix dead in the face. Voice cheerful as he reached out.

And every day, Felix was made to look like the bad guy when he growled and declined, snarled at the Prince to leave him be. “I’d rather slice out my own tongue than carry a conversation with you.” The other students in their house, hell, even the students from other houses were always appalled at his bluntness. Whispering behind their hands that he was cruel and sour, but Felix didn’t care. He was best left alone anyway. “Eat alone.”

“Well, we’ll be in the dining hall if you change your mind.” Dimitri always handled him so diplomatically, as was fitting of a prince. It was infuriating, the easiest response for Felix was to turn his back with a huff.

“I won’t.”

His emotions were always kept under tight wraps, pushed beneath a guise of anger and annoyance. He could hiss out the word boar as many times as he wanted and people would always see nothing but the pure unfiltered hatred. They wouldn’t lift the curtain to see his fear, and that was all he wanted. He didn’t want anyone to understand him, he wasn’t looking to talk it out or share his feelings. The pathetic truth was that he cared, He cared so deeply that it hurt, and at some point he decided that it was easier to thrash training dummies and push everyone away than it was to care.

Perhaps it was in those moments that his sword was nothing but a flash of movement that his emotions were on display. The effort that he put into his craft, his burning desire to be nothing but the best. He said that it was for nothing but pure competition, he wanted to be the best so that he might have one day beaten Glenn. The passion he put forth manifested itself into a different Felix. He was at his best when he was focused on a task at hand, hair tied back with sweat dripping down his neck. Watching him train against the other swordsmen of the monastery felt almost unfair, the way he would wipe the floor with any of his fellow students.

The real show was when the Professor picked up a blade, the two darting and lunging while battling for the upper hand. It was almost a dance, keen eyes could catch the slightest movement and with a flex of sinewy muscle their positions had been readjusted. Both would break a sweat, Felix vying and clawing towards a win that he just wasn’t good enough for. When they were done, sweaty and flushed - several onlookers would try to explain the matches and in turn recreate the masterful footwork, but it never held the same allure. They lacked the passion and the drive of Felix and the professor.

Catherine said it best one evening after a particularly close match, watching as a couple other students tried to replicate it. Felix was putting his blade back against the wall, replaying his losing footwork over in his head when he heard her booming laugh as she approached the imitating pair. “You two guys just aren’t spicy enough.” The knight approached the two boys, offering them pointers when Felix thought about her words.

He always knew he liked spicy.

**Author's Note:**

> i'm too emotionally exhausted for notes right now.


End file.
